


Best Part

by doctortrekkie



Series: Break Me Down and Build Me Up [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Finally doing how Leo met Niles, Gen, I finally broke out the M rating purely bc of where Niles's head is at, Mentions of Suicide, Niles is as much of a smartass as you'd expect, Suicidal Thoughts, Tiny Leo gets his first dose of Reality, instead of therapy he got Tiny Leo, pre-Brynhildr Leo, we love Niles but he needs therapy, yeah huge trigger warning on that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:28:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27995289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctortrekkie/pseuds/doctortrekkie
Summary: In which a desperate thief in his darkest moment meets a sheltered prince who refuses to believe he isn’t worth saving.Or: In which Niles and Leo have their lives irrevocably changed for the better.(Takes place six years before the beginning of Fates and one year beforeNatural; August 630)
Relationships: Leon | Leo & Zero | Niles
Series: Break Me Down and Build Me Up [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1049543
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Best Part

_"Not Looking For a Halo" by[Peji Ximon](https://instagram.com/pejiximon?igshid=nadbi9o0qbni)_

_I can be a liar, I can be a cheat, I can be neurotic, I can be a freak, I can be colder than a rolling stone, you know I hate it when I’m left alone, even at my best, yeah, I can be the worst, I can be a head case, spin you in reverse, I can be everything in between, but you always find the best part, the best part of me…_

**Castle Krakenburg, Windmire, Nohr—August 16, 630**

Niles was never quite sure how he got there.

Oh, he’d figured it out later—how they’d made into Castle Krakenburg, how they’d slipped past the guards, how Karsten had ditched him at the first sign of trouble, how Niles himself had messed up his exit. But in the abstract, in that moment or even later, he had never quite figured out how he’d gotten so cursedly _unlucky._

Or so extraordinarily _lucky,_ he would later amend.

“Prince Leo,” came a voice from the end of the darkened hallway, sounding as if its owner was trying to sound stern and only managing utterly exasperated. “Your Highness, your brother _insisted—”_

“Oh, I know what Xander said,” came the answer; this voice sounded like it was going for imperiously dismissive and it was only being betrayed by its own childish pitch. “I was _there_ when he said it, you know. But I saw movement down here.”

“Your Highness, there are _thieves_ in the castle, you really must return to your quarters!” A light flickered against the far wall as the evident guard spoke, leaving Niles slinking further back into his dark alcove. If he could just stay hidden until things died down a little, he could wait it out and sneak to freedom once the guards had relaxed…

“And I’m _going_ to my quarters,” the boy replied. “Just as soon as I check this hallway.”

“As soon as _we_ check this hallway,” came a third voice, sounding like another guard. The light flickered again, then came closer.

The boy sighed. “Honestly. You’re both acting like I’m some kind of _child.”_

“With all due respect,” said the first guard, “you’re thirteen.”

“For one,” said the boy, “my brother became the rightful wielder of Siegfried when he was twelve. For another, in 447 the then-crown prince Dietrich led the Nohrian forces to victory against the Macarathean army, at _age thirteen,_ when his mother was wounded by the arrow that would later claim her life, so your argument isn’t really—”

Even over the chatter, Niles hardly dared to breathe.

It still didn’t do him any good.

The light flared in his vision, nearly blinding him as the guard caught sight of Niles’s hidden corner with a startled expletive.

Niles could have killed him.

Niles probably _should_ have killed him.

But he froze for a moment too long, caught up in a thought so macabre it nearly coaxed a single, sardonic laugh out of him.

_So this is how it ends, huh? In Castle Krakenburg, of all places. Never woulda guessed that._

The guard grabbed for him, roughly shoving him out of his alcove into the hallway proper, and Niles didn’t resist.

“I _told_ you!” crowed the boy—the _prince,_ Niles hastily amended, as the fineness of his clothes and the primness of his posture immediately testified to what the thief had already heard. _Spoiled brat,_ Niles thought as the guard forced him to his knees. _Oh, wouldn’t I just like to show him the bite of a Windmire winter…_

The guard wanted to know how Niles’s crew had made it in, of course. Niles answered. _No honor among thieves,_ wasn’t that the phrase? Niles was nothing if not a thief, and he certainly had no honor left to spare for those willing to use him as bait in a trap.

_Not even his friends, not his brothers, who had so quickly turned on him at the slightest provocation…_

At some point, the spare guard had stopped trying to coax the prince away, leaving the boy with crossed arms and a haughty gaze being directed down his nose. By the time Niles had finished spilling his metaphorical guts and was left only waiting for someone to spill his literal ones, the prince’s head had taken in an oddly quizzical tilt.

“Your Highness?” one of the guards finally prodded, resting an easy hand on the pommel of his sword. How funny nobility were, Niles couldn’t help but think. Here were two perfectly capable, competent soldiers, forced to defer to the whims of some skinny child simply because he had won the lottery of birth.

The prince’s face seemed oddly pale in the uncertain light as he reached for the satchel slung over his hip. His hands trembled the slightest bit. “Nohrian law is blunt on the subject,” he finally said. “He ought to be executed.”

Oh, gods, were they really going to _debate_ this? “Would you just,” Niles said, words directed to the stone pavers at their feet and his knees, “get it over with?”

Silence fell.

Niles finally looked up to see the prince had frozen with his red-bound tome half-drawn, his eyes wide and still with that puzzled angle to his head. “You’re not,” the prince began, “going to beg for your life?”

Niles merely let out a snort. “As if my life is worth that much effort.”

“You can’t _want_ to die,” the prince said.

“And why not?”

“No one wants to die,” the prince said firmly, with the haughty assurance of wisdom that had never been challenged.

“And what if I do?” Niles asked, wondering just what pattern of words would twist open the lock that would put him out of his misery.

“But you don’t!” the prince insisted. “There are things in life that one should live for!”

With a scoff, Niles asked, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

The prince paused, glancing briefly at both stoic guards before he answered. “Well… do you have siblings?”

“None that I’m aware of,” said Niles.

“...Your parents?”

“Hah. As if they’ve ever been in the picture.”

Once more, the prince hesitated. “Haven’t you… got any friends at all?”

“Well, let’s see,” Niles said dryly. “The only friends I ever had just left me here to cover their asses, so I’m gonna take a wild guess and say ‘no.’”

Stowing his tome away again, the prince crossed his arms. “So,” he said, “then say, hypothetically, you were released from the castle at this moment.” One of the guards shot him a look of reprimand at that, which he promptly ignored. “What would you do?”

“Probably go rob a little old lady of her purse, her cloak, and her teeth,” Niles replied, not bothering to hide the feral grin coming to his face. “I’m not sure what sort of redeeming qualities you’re trying to discover with your little questionnaire, but I can guarantee you won’t find any here.”

The prince huffed. “But _why?”_ he continued. “Why would that be the first thing you did? Why steal at all?”

“Oh, well, if we’re being honest, I haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday morning,” Niles drawled. “And people who aren’t _princes,”_ he spat the word, “generally need money to buy food.”

“Well, _yes,”_ said the prince, rolling his eyes. “But you could always apply your efforts to more honest work—especially now, during the harvest—”

“Why, yes,” said Niles, “I _could_ spend my all my days staring at food I can’t eat, expending more effort than the pay I receive until I drop dead in the field and my fellows are forced to step over my body lest I slow them down enough for the foreman’s lash. Oh, what’s the matter, _Your Highness?_ Hasn’t anyone ever told you where your food comes from?” He scoffed. “Spoken like the true king of his gilded cage.”

“So you would rather resort to thievery…” said the prince in that vague, disappointed tone of a disapproving parent. Niles resisted the urge to snort.

“And just what other options are there?”

“The castle itself often hires,” said the prince. “Cooks, butlers, retainers… Well, retainers less so, but—what?”

Niles hadn’t been able to contain the wild guffaw that had escaped him at the last suggestion. _“Retainers,”_ he repeated, and would’ve wiped at his eye if he’d dared to move his hand. “My, the Krakenburg line must be in quite some dire straits if they want to consider the likes of _me_ as retainers.”

“Not necessarily,” the prince said. “My sister’s retainer comes from a very similar background as yourself, and she has proved herself more than competent. But still…” He shrugged. “Take him to the dungeons,” he continued to the guards. “We may have need to question him further.”

 _Oh, the dungeons. How lovely,_ Niles thought, wondering for a moment how likely it was the guards would kill him if he made a lunge for the prince.

All too likely, he thought, but it came a moment too late as the prince turned on his heel and strode away.

~~~

An hour passed. An hour that Niles would have preferred not to live through, if he was being frankly honest with himself. He wasn’t sure what else exactly he was supposed to be questioned on when he’d already told them everything.

Niles leaned back on his luxurious accommodations of moldy straw and tried not to think.

There was always the chance of escape, however thin the odds—but escape to what? He sure as hell wasn’t joining back with Karsten’s gang after this. That meant striking back out on his own again, struggling to carve out a place in Windmire’s harsh, unfeeling depths. Perhaps if he got lucky enough to scrape together the coin he could leave Windmire entirely; he’d always preferred the capital’s high population of the rich and gullible, but with his face now known in the palace it might be wiser to skip town for Cheve or Macarath.

 _So much for not thinking,_ Niles told himself dryly as a light down the hallway washed through his eyelids.

Besides, he internally added, it wasn’t very likely he’d live to see the next week anyway.

The light grew stronger, as did the pattern of careful footsteps with it. Niles ignored it until the footsteps stopped quite near, followed shortly by the soft clearing of a throat.

Niles sighed and finally opened his eyes, only to find his gaze startlingly met by the earnest set of a thirteen-year-old prince’s face.

“I didn’t ask for your name.”

“Buh?” Niles answered, too thrown in that moment to fully process the words.

“Your name,” the prince repeated with a hint of exasperation. “I didn’t ask for it earlier, so I’m asking for it now. I’m assuming you just needed a moment to comprehend the request, since you seemed eloquent enough before and ‘Buh’ seems like a very odd title indeed.”

“I—” Niles began, then shook his head and finally offered, “Niles.”

“Niles,” the prince repeated with a nod, then returned, “Leo. Which you probably already knew, since I rather doubt you’d have mistaken me for Xander.”

There was an odd note of discontent in Leo’s voice that Niles quietly filed away for later. In truth, he had never given enough care to memorize the names of the royal family besides King Garon himself—there were, what, four children? Five? And several more, he’d thought, years ago, victims of an oddly high mortality rate for children of nobility. Niles had never had the spare time or brainpower to look into who had lived and who had died when he needed that headspace put toward finding his next meal.

That train of thought was abruptly pulled up short when, to his utter astonishment, Leo retrieved a set of keys from his pocket.

“Are you _letting me go?”_ Niles asked, too bewildered to bother filtering himself.

“Hardly,” Leo said with a scoff. “I have no intention of releasing you on a population of little old ladies who would likely prefer to keep possession of their teeth.” With one final click of the lock, the door swung open and Leo looked back to Niles. “I am, however, relocating you.”

“My,” said Niles. “All by your little lonesome? Isn’t _that_ interesting.” He shrugged. “I mean, I suppose you _are_ only one of the spares…”

“...Excuse me?” Leo said, his voice rising to a comically high octave. “I’m a _prince._ You can’t talk to me like that.”

“Oh, that’s right, how could I forget?” Niles said, snapping his fingers. “You’ve never met anyone who wouldn’t bend over and kiss your ass. Well, let me just say it is my _absolute pleasure_ to be the first, _Your Highness.”_

Leo gave him a long, gaping look reminiscent of a fish, then finally crossed his arms and said flatly, “I can leave you here.”

“Aww,” said Niles, “did I make the fluffy kitten angry?”

A long moment passed, followed by an incredulous _“What?”_

“That’s what you look like, you know,” Niles said, idly fiddling with a greasy strand of hair. “All puffed up like an _adorable little kitten._ Only with less ‘adorable’ involved…”

“I’m _trying,”_ Leo said, plainly getting the words out through gritted teeth, “to help you.”

“A horrible decision, really,” Niles drawled, leaning back against the wall. “Why don’t you just kill me instead?”

“Stop saying that!”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” Leo said, his voice rising again, “life is sacred, and it shouldn’t be thrown away, and dammit you’re not going to die until I say so!”

“My, aren’t we entitled?” Niles asked with a vague click of his tongue. “And I didn’t realize you were old enough to know how to curse. How precious.”

“Are you coming or what?” Leo asked with a lift of his chin that was probably intended to be imperious.

Niles gave a great sigh and hauled himself to his feet. “Oh, all right then,” he said. Then, smirking as he crossed the cell and came decidedly too far into Leo’s personal space, he whispered, “Promise to kill me if I do something naughty?”

Leo, to his credit, met his gaze without wavering, although it would have likely been more intimidating if the young prince had more than three inches over five feet. “Hurry up.”

Niles stepped back far enough to give a pointedly mocking bow before following Leo out of the dungeons.

~~~

There were really far more staircases in Castle Krakenburg than any reasonable person would ever need, Niles decided shortly.

They were on the fourth or fifth flight above the dungeons—Niles was already losing count—when Leo stopped short, letting out a soft “Oh,” before rummaging through the satchel that held his tome. A moment later, he produced a linen-wrapped lump and extended it to Niles.

“What’s that?” the thief asked, raising a suspicious brow.

“You said you hadn’t eaten since yesterday,” Leo said, proffering the object again.

“Maybe I lied,” Niles said, then took the lump with care and unwrapped it. Inside was a roll made with the whitest flour he’d ever seen, soft and flaky to the touch, without the slightest hint of hardened age or spot of mold—the damn thing was still _warm._ “I could be a compulsive liar and you’d never know—”

He broke off with the abrupt thought of _Gods-DAMN, no wonder the rich get fat if they eat the likes of this all the time._ He tore off half the roll in one bite and stuffed it in his mouth, fairly certain he could have devoured two dozen more without slowing.

“Maybe my name isn’t even Niles, did you think about that?” he continued through his mouthful.

“The thought occurred to me, though I’m not sure what you’d gain from it,” Leo said. “And somehow I get the feeling you weren’t lying about the food situation.”

Niles crammed the other half of the roll in his mouth and grudgingly nodded.

“There’ll be more in my quarters,” Leo said as he started up the stairs again. “It wasn’t hard to pretend I missed dinner in the chaos.”

Niles managed to push away the lure of _more food_ long enough to let out an incredulous “Your _quarters?”_

“Where else would I be taking you?” Leo asked blankly.

“The executioner’s block?” Niles suggested dryly.

Leo huffed and rolled his eyes.

Niles was about to spout off again when he froze, then instinctively ducked into an alcove at the end of the staircase.

“Niles, what are you—” Leo began.

 _“Guards,”_ the thief hissed.

“Oh,” Leo belatedly said, pressing himself back against the wall with a tension in his form that said he wasn’t used to this sort of sneaking around. Niles was starting to get the impression the kid had never broken a rule in his life before his current misguided adventure.

Niles began creeping back down the staircase, already playing back their previous path and planning the best escape route when Leo produced his tome again.

 _“Ember,”_ the prince whispered; with a decisive wave of his hand, a spark appeared in the far reaches of the hallway, then danced and darted out of view. A curious murmur came from the guards ahead, their footsteps following in its wake until they faded from hearing. “There,” Leo whispered triumphantly.

When a long enough moment passed in silence that Niles dared to speak again, he said, “There _is_ food in your room, yes?”

“I do believe I just said that,” Leo whispered back, rolling his eyes. “Now if we could perhaps focus on the matter at hand—”

“Tell me where your room is, I’ll get us there, and no one will be the wiser.”

“Because that worked out so well for you last time.”

“Ah, but I’m not trying to get _out_ this time,” Niles said. “That’s quite a difference.”

“You don’t know the way,” Leo protested.

“Yes, that’s why I’m asking,” Niles said dryly. Then, with a smirk, he added lightly, “What, don’t you trust me?”

Leo paused, then grudgingly said, “...Well, I suppose…”

Niles barked another laugh. “My, your judgment is so far beyond questionable I’m not sure there’s a word for it.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Right,” he said. “You’ll probably try to suicide by palace guard next time we run across one. _Well,”_ he added haughtily, “I’m not going to let that happen, so come along.”

“You’re really not used to being told ‘no,’ are you?” Niles asked as Leo continued on again.

“I can be,” the prince said. “But as my older sisters would tell you, I’m also notoriously stubborn. You might as well give up now, Niles, because I’ve taken it upon myself to ensure you see the sunrise tomorrow.”

“If my name _is_ Niles,” said Niles. “Potential compulsive liar, remember?”

Leo rolled his eyes again. “Lying or not, since that’s the name you’ve offered that’s what I’m going to keep calling you. Unless you’d like to take the chance to correct me?”

Niles shrugged. “Could do Zero,” he offered. “I’ve done that before.”

Leo lifted a brow. “Zero? _That’s_ an obvious codename. Haven’t you ever read any mystery novel ever written?”

“That’s cute you think I know how to read,” Niles answered breezily.

“You don’t know how to _read?”_ Leo asked with wide eyes, pulling up short and sounding more horrified by this development than anything else they’d discussed.

Niles shook his head at the irony of the prince’s priorities and waved his hand. “I’ve had _other_ concerns.”

Leo shook his head, assurance once more in his voice as he strode on again. “Well, we’ll have to fix _that.”_

“Will you now,” Niles drawled, rather convinced that such a thing would not be fixed. Not that he especially cared. His main interest at that moment involved sticking around long enough to mooch a few meals off the gullible kid and, if he were quick-fingered, pocket something worth enough to get him out of Windmire.

The rest of their winding walk passed in silence, thankfully without any more interference from the palace guards. Leo at least looked over both his shoulders this time before crossing the hallway and unlocking the door.

Niles crossed the threshold after him and his feet pulled him up short without his consent.

Leo’s bedroom was grander than some cathedrals—not the Niles made much habit of visiting cathedrals. Two wide, diamond-paned windows stretched across the far wall, letting in what measly starlight came down from the heavens and flanking the stupidly large four-poster bed that was veiled in thick purple tapestry. The wall to the left of the door, as well as the remainder of the wall the door was actually in, held floor-to-ceiling shelves that were all stuffed to overflowing with more books than Niles had seen in his life, though the former wall did have enough space carved out for a wide, sturdy desk. The desk, too, had a stack of half a dozen books resting on it, as did the bed’s right-hand nightstand.

“Ah,” said Niles, doing his best to keep the awe from his voice out of spite. It was _beyond_ extravagant—he probably could have pawned off a single bedcurtain for more cash than he usually saw in the average week. “I see why my illiteracy offends you so.”

“I’m a _mage,”_ Leo said loftily. “I’d be a fool if I ever stopped learning. _Especially_ when my sister made the decision to forfeit her claim to Brynhildr.”

Niles wasn’t entirely sure just what a ‘Brynhildr’ was, but judging by Leo’s reverence when he said the name, it was something rather meaningful. “Ambitious, are we?” he drawled dryly.

Leo huffed, crossing to his desk and importantly uncorking an inkwell. “I was _hoping_ Father would grant it to me on my most recent birthday,” he said, scrawling his quill across the topmost available paper. “I’m _already_ older than Xander was when he got Siegfried. It’s a bit ridiculous, frankly.” He sighed, like his troubles were extensive, and straightened once more, brandishing the paper. “Right, then. Looks like the food hasn’t shown up yet, that’s fine. We’ll focus on all this first.”

Niles did _not_ think that was fine, especially when Leo gave an absent wave that seemed to encompass Niles as a whole. “You just gestured to all of me.”

“Yes,” Leo said. “All of your clothes, namely. I’m afraid we may have to burn them.”

Despite himself, Niles smirked. “Oh? And so I’ll be wearing nothing, then? My, that’s an interesting development… Didn’t think you’d be into that sort of entertainment value.”

Leo shot him a blank look, halfway back over to the door. “Entertainment… value? What in the world are you on about? And of course I’ll find you suitable clothing in the meantime. Just what do you take me for?”

Shaking his head, Niles only smiled and said “All right, then. I take it back. You are actually _painfully_ adorable.”

“I am not _adorable!”_ Leo said hotly, spinning back around.

“Aww, but you were so offended when I said you _weren’t,_ earlier,” Niles pointed out. “Won’t you make up your mind?”

Leo shot him another look that was probably intended to be intimidating and really just… wasn’t.

“So what’s that for, then?” Niles asked, gesturing to the paper.

Straightening his shoulders, Leo curtly informed him, “It says ‘Do Not Enter, Experiments in Progress.’”

Niles’s eyes widened slightly. _Ah, and there’s the catch._ No wonder, really. Princes didn’t save thieves desperate for execution for selfless reasons. “What… sorts of experiments are you planning, exactly?”

“Huh?” Leo asked, then shrugged. “Nothing, really. I just don’t want the cleaning maids to find you in here. It’s as good of an excuse as any.” He opened the door a crack, stuck his head out and gave a wary look, then pinned the paper to the outside.

“...So you’re _not_ planning on experimenting on me…?” Niles clarified.

“Why would I do that?” Leo asked, cocking his head. “Anyways, you should _really_ bathe,” he said, gesturing to the room’s second door, in the wall opposite the desk. “You don’t want to be here when the food shows up, anyway.”

Niles actually very much _did_ want to be there when the food showed up, though he understood the gist that he didn’t want to be seen by whoever _delivered_ the food. “Sure, then.”

Leo returned to his desk, once more gesturing absently at the other door. “The bathroom is through there. There’s a bath drawn already.”

Niles paused for a long moment, watching as Leo sank into his desk chair, plainly already absorbed in whatever it was that required his attention. Was he just planning on… sitting there? What, exactly, did he think would stop Niles from looping one of the insanely expensive cords holding back the curtains around Leo’s _neck_ if he got the inkling to?

Sensing he wasn’t going to get any further conversation, Niles toed his way across the room, likely leaving grubby footprints in his wake considering the guards had taken his boots along with his weapons. Two armchairs flanked a fireplace in the same wall as the bathroom door, flames flickering valiantly in the hearth, as oblivious to the strange circumstances as only inanimate objects could be.

The bathroom door opened with the silent ease of perfect maintenance, revealing swirling curls of steam rising in the next room. Cool tile supported his feet, coming up into a short step to his left that led to a bath big enough for three of him—the source of the steam, clearly. Niles vaguely took in the other necessary fixtures of a bathroom to his right, though his fascinated attention was on the tub.

No way. There was _no way._

Sure enough, though, at the twist of a handle a stream of water fell from the tub’s faucet spilled into the already full bath. Niles hurriedly jerked it back the other direction, wary of running it too full, though not without a muttered, “Well take me and screw me sideways, the kid’s got _running water.”_

He moved to withdraw his hand, but realized only belatedly his fingers were trembling with exhaustion, hunger, and sheer _shock._ A handful of soaps were clustered precariously on the side of the tub and Niles’s inelegant retreat sent the edge most one into a tumble that ended with a shatter before he had hope of saving it.

Niles stared uncomprehendingly at the broken remains of glass and the pale soap now oozing out of its confines. That gaudy bottle alone, intricately carved, was probably worth… more than any single thing Niles had ever laid hands on in his life, really.

A quick, muffled sound came from the other side of the wall and the door immediately flung open, nearly hitting Niles with its force. Niles ducked away, the movement seeming to reawaken him—the glass was sharp, sharp enough to slit a throat, and he was quick enough to do it before his foe could even make a sound—

“Oh,” Leo said, nudging the door closed again and catching a glimpse of the fallen bottle. “The maids will get that.” He paused, then tilted his head slightly. “Or… hmm. I suppose they won’t,” he said, apparently remembering the _Experiments in Progress_ sign on the door. “A moment.” He paused, then turned back and offered a towel hanging on the wall. “Scrub yourself down first,” he offered. “This is due to be thrown out anyway, and then you won’t _completely_ foul the bath.”

Niles nodded, wondering why a perfectly usable towel had been so condemned.

“You’re not planning on drowning yourself while I step out, are you?” Leo asked. “I can assure you it’s a very unpleasant way to die.”

“Well now that you mention the idea…”

 _“Very_ unpleasant,” Leo repeated. “And don’t expect me to be gone much longer than two minutes, anyway.”

“All right, all right. I suppose I can refrain myself,” Niles said. “Carry on.”

Leo gazed at him for a long moment more, then turned and clicked the door shut behind him again.

Niles sighed, wetting the towel in the bath and moving to shuck his shirt. He left the offending garment carelessly on the floor and set about scrubbing himself down. He had to admit that Leo had made a good point—the towel was picking up more dirt than he’d even been aware of.

True to his word, Leo knocked on the door again a few minutes later—and promptly flushed bright red when Niles offered him a “Yeah,” and the prince stepped back inside.

“Oh,” Leo said, his voice a full octave higher than it had been. “I didn’t mean—you could have told me to wait—”

“Wait for what?” Niles asked, taking a minute to realize that Leo’s gaze was turned very firmly on the ceiling. “Oh, dear,” he sighed. “We have all the same bits you know, _Your Highness._ Not that I would especially care if you did or not.” He shrugged. “And not that that should especially even _matter,_ because if you cared to unglue your eyes from the rafters you might notice I still have my trousers on.”

Leo’s gaze darted down to meet Niles’s for half a second before immediately returning to the ceiling. “Yes—but—I mean—you don’t even know me—”

“Which has yet to sink in as a valid argument against this ridiculous crusade you’ve taken up for me, so your point was?” Niles asked.

“That’s different!”

“How so, exactly?”

Leo huffed, seeming to set down the bundle of clothes he held on the edge of the sink purely so he could cross his arms. “It just is!” He turned back around, this time managing to look Niles in the eye even if he was red up to the tips of his ears. “What are those for, then?”

“What are what for?”

Leo gestured, though it took Niles a long moment more to realize what he meant.

“These?” he asked, pointing to an inked snake curling up his forearm. It was far from his only tattoo. Further up the same arm was a chain that wrapped around just below his elbow and a crescent moon. On the other side was a flame trailing behind the arrow on his shoulder. He deduced those were likely the ones best visible from Leo’s current angle. “They’re not _for_ anything,” he said. “I just like ‘em.”

“But… why?” Leo asked. “What do they mean?”

“Different things,” Niles said. “The chain’s for the day I lost my eye. Didn’t get it till a couple years later, obviously, no one wants to tattoo a kid.” He wondered if Leo would get the implication of just how young he’d been when he’d found himself down that particular appendage. “The moon’s just ‘cause I like looking at the moon. The rest are just… dunno. Momentos. First time I killed a man, first time I ran my own heist, first time I had sex. Stuff like that.”

Leo blinked, plainly still trying to wrap his head around the concept. “You mean… they’re not like…?”

“There’s no traitor’s brand among them, if that’s what you’re asking,” Niles said, holding out his arm. “Criminals aren’t the only people who get tattoos, you know. Well… not that I’m a shining example of _that,”_ he said with a smirk. “I should say _crimes_ aren’t the only reason people get tattoos.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?” Leo asked.

“A bit, when they’re getting done. Then they heal. It’s worth it.” Niles shrugged. “Now, I do believe I’m supposed to be taking a bath, so unless you’re suddenly keen on joining me…?”

Leo’s blush redoubled. “No, thank you,” he said primly. “I’ll be going. You can use those clothes when you get out,” he continued, gesturing to the pile he’d dropped on the counter. “They’re my brother’s, so they’ll be too big on you, but they’ll do for now.”

While Niles was debating the wisdom of strutting around in the crown prince’s clothes, Leo moved to take the door.

 _“No_ drowning,” Leo told him with a sharp point of his finger, so stern that Niles had to bite back a laugh. “I _will_ hear you and I _will_ come save you.”

“Absolutely,” Niles said, a smirk once more taking over his features. “I completely understand. It’s my pleasure to obey, Your Adorableness.”

Leo whipped back around, spluttering, then seemed to think better of whatever he’d planned to say and slunk back into his room.


End file.
